Thursday, June 04, 2009

The Sad Case of Susan Boyle

The first thought that came to my mind after joining the millions who viewed Susan Boyle’s glorious performance on ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ was this: heartache is just around the bend. I’ve spent my adult life in the music industry so this was an easy conclusion to reach. Anyone with a heartbeat was moved by Ms. Boyle’s poignant 3 minutes of fine singing but our enthusiasm for her emanated from a place in our souls that had far more to do with who she was rather than how well she sang. She was one of us: raggedly dressed, not so attractive, somewhat uncomfortable in her own skin, trying hard to be appreciated and nervous as hell. That’s what drew us to her side: she was one of us and suddenly she was rising above the anonymous monotony of existence. Her performance cut through the haughtiness and beauty of the panelists causing them to come face-to-face with her raw and unexploited gift. Had the judges not unanimously acquiesced to the truth of that moment the crowd would have stormed the stage, tied them up and ravaged that music hall as if Manchester United had just lost a home game because of an unjustly presented red card. But now there is a new chapter unfolding in this heretofore Cinderella story: Susan’s entire being seems to have unraveled. In a mere 6 weeks she has gone from world-class and beloved superstar to second place and with the collapse of her dream has come the collapse of her self. This is very sad. It has been my experience that the entertainment business fractures individuals - not all, but many. It toys with our desires, taunts our hopes, lifts us up from obscurity, empties our tanks and abandons us at some dark dead end. It is then that we face the monumental task of recreating reality. There is no going back to who we were before – momentary fame has scrambled the hell out of that former and simple life. And so it is that Susan Boyle is struggling to become someone new and we continue to cheer for her – because she is one of us: raggedly dressed, not so attractive, somewhat uncomfortable in her own skin, trying hard to be appreciated and nervous as hell.